Dirty Ties

by Pam Godwin

  All I had to do was hit the on button on the camera app.

  All I had to do was ignore the guilt tugging on my attraction for her. I wanted to hate her for that, for seducing me so thoroughly.

  “Logan?” Her ankles wobbled in the sky-high heels, her fists bunching in the bedding beside her head.

  My jaw clenched painfully as I moved my thumb and powered on the cameras. Don’t think about it. Just enjoy her.

  I dropped the phone on the bag, grabbed the box of rubbers, and tossed them on the bed in front of her face. Then I knelt behind her. Shifting closer, close enough for her to feel my breaths on the back of her thighs, I examined her delectable legs from her feet to her ass.

  Sheer black stockings stretched over her skin, ending above her knees and held up by the garters that peeked from beneath the hem of her dress. If I lifted that hem, I’d find her swollen flesh saturated with her arousal. Her bent position and wide stance would also give me a glimpse of her anus, one of the many holes I intended to lose myself in for endless hours tonight.

  The impatient burn between my legs ignited with a swelling burst of lust. I gripped her hips and slid my tongue over my bottom lip, wetting it, then slowly brushed my mouth along the inside of her knee, over the top of the stocking, and up her inner thigh.

  The skirt gathered on my forehead as I licked from her piercing to the pucker of her ass, dipping deep along her slit with each swipe and lapping up her sharply sweet flavor.

  The muscles in her legs flexed and quivered as her ass rocked against my face. I felt her need in every aching organ in my body and gave it back with a frantic tongue, a scrape of teeth, and the ruthless thrust of my hand.

  Christ, I couldn’t have kept my fingers out of her if I tried. She was so damned tight, so silky and warm. If I could’ve formed a coherent sentence, I would’ve told her so.

  Instead, I used my lips to show my appreciation, licking and sucking, swirling my tongue around the clenched rim of her ass as my fingers drove harder, deeper inside her cunt.

  The stubble on my face was sloppy wet, every inch of my hand drenched with her juices. I fucking loved it. So much so, it was easy to forget there was a man waiting for her at home.

  Keeping her face forward and her hands on the bed like I’d ordered, she screamed as I fingered her through her second orgasm. As the convulsions along her inner walls relaxed, she grew quiet. In fact, she seemed to draw into herself. Her arms wrapped around her torso, hidden beneath her body. She pressed her face into the mattress, and I wasn’t sure she was breathing until a muffled sob reached my ears.

  My stomach sank. What the fuck?

  I climbed up her trembling backside, straddling her waist, and pulled her arms out from beneath her. “Kaci?”

  She turned her head, blue eyes wide and glistening, her cheeks glowing from her release. The most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.

  “God, that was…” She rubbed a hand over her face, swiping at unshed tears. “Ugh, how embarrassing.”

  I pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t be embarrassed. Was it too much?”

  “No.” A smile quivered at the corner of her swollen lips. “It’s just…” She closed her eyes and released a breath. “It’s been a long time, Logan.”

  Something shifted inside of me, a tingly, restless sensation, floating through my limbs and lightening my body. “A long time…?”

  “Since a man went down on me.” Her eyes snapped open, locking on mine. “Years.” Shaking her head, she laughed, but there was no humor in it.

  So Collin Anderson didn’t eat out his wife. Okay, not a reason to cheat on him, but seriously? What a putz. I was tempted to ask when she’d had sex last, but just because he didn’t go down on her didn’t mean he wasn’t jerking off inside her three times a day.

  A helpless burn tried to invade my chest. I refused to think about her with him, didn’t want to crush the floaty feeling that had settled through me moments earlier. I’d given her something she needed, and while I shouldn’t give a flying fuck, I couldn’t stop myself from caring with the entirety of my being.

  “Not gonna lie.” I leaned in and pressed my lips against her soft neck. “I’m pretty damned happy I was the guy to break that dry spell.”

  A lustful sigh pushed past her lips. “Me, too.”

  Did she really feel that way? Did she feel connected to me at all, a guy she just met? Maybe I didn’t want to know, didn’t want to think about the part of me that sensed something deeper, something I desperately wanted reciprocated.

  I ran the pads of my fingers across her lips, making her breath quicken. Then I leaned back, sitting upright with my knees on either side of her ribs. Struggling to pace my own breathing, I reached beneath her skirt and pushed a finger inside of her, careful to keep the material in the way of the cameras.

  Her arousal coated my hand, her body still ready, wanton, so damned sexy. Thank God because the ache in my dick had raised my body temperature to unstable, my need to fuck her simmering beneath my skin.

  I tried my best to not attack her like an animal as I bent over her head, grabbed a condom, and put my mouth at her ear. “Eyes forward. Don’t move.”

  “So bossy.” She smiled and turned her head to stare at the wall across from the bed.

  A moment later, I had my painfully-hard cock wrapped in latex and positioned at her opening. With my hands curled around her tiny waist and my Chucks planted on the floor beside her heels, I pulled her hips against mine and slammed her onto my shaft.

  My eyes rolled back into my head, my breath caught, and my muscles shook with the need to move. Hot, snug, liquid heaven. But in that euphoric second, buried deep inside Collin’s wife, I knew it was wrong.

  My father was an adulterer. God knew how many lives he’d ruined. Would this ruin Collin? Should it? What excuse had she given him tonight? How would she explain where she’d been? Why the fuck was she cheating on him?

  My vision clouded, and my pulse raced. An edgy twitch crawled through my body, magnified by the clamp of her muscles around my cock. Seething heat coiled around my neck. I wanted to use her, punish her, make her swallow my anger.

  I drove my hips, dug my fingers into her waist, and pounded into her with all my strength. She cried out, her hands scrambling over the bed. I gripped her harder, pinning her, and fucked her without mercy, without restraint, without technique. Pull out, slam in, out, in. No gentle caresses. No finesse. It was crude, angry, thoughtless.

  I fucked her with the kind of hard-hitting savagery I’d longed to unleash on a woman but never dared. I fucked her until her voice strained from her screams and her body tensed in pain, and right before I reached the edge of orgasm, I pulled out.

  I couldn’t come. I wouldn’t. Not like this.

  With shaking fingers, I straightened her skirt and sat on the edge of the bed beside her hip. My muscles burned with exertion, my breaths rushed out in short bursts, and my head spun as I came to terms with what I’d just done.

  “Logan.” A demanding whisper, despite the rawness that scratched through it.

  Guilt filled my stomach with lead, but the thing was, it was inconsequential. Because the moment I met her eyes over my shoulder and glimpsed the glassy look of pure wonderment on her face, I realized she had just fucked me.

  She wasn’t shrinking in fear or whimpering like a virgin. Her smile told me I’d just fulfilled a very naughty fantasy, one that featured a volatile asshole with the gall to claim her, shove her face into the mattress, and bang her with a furious temper. The lazy roll of her hips said she could take what I had to give all goddamned night, that she wanted my brand of piss and fire, wanted to be wrecked over and over by my pent-up anger.

  Shocked to the base of my nuts and painfully turned on, I looked away and squeezed my dick, attempting to slow the raging pump of blood that throbbed through the length. I’d shown her the violence and furor inside me, let her see it in all its bitter glory. Hell, I’d slammed it into the back of her cunt. And s
he’d taken it, thrown it back at me, with her ass in the air, a smile on her lips, her hypnotic eyes begging for more.

  She was a dangerous distraction, exactly what I didn’t want. Yet she was everything I never knew I was searching for.

  I was so fucked.

  I bent down, as if unlacing my Chucks, and grabbed the phone from the bag, holding it on the floor where she couldn’t see it.

  She nudged my thigh with her hip, her breathy rasp tumbling over my shoulder. “I don’t know what that was or why you didn’t come, but you’re not finished.”

  The job was done, but she was right. I wouldn’t ever be finished with her. “I haven’t even begun, you greedy slut.”

  What we just did…that had been for the cameras. For revenge. Maybe I was a selfish bastard, but the rest of the night was for me.

  I tapped the screen and shut down the recording.

  Boneless and light-headed, I wavered in my heels, bent over the mattress with my face in the bedding and the nerves beneath my skin buzzing from the proximity of the man beside me. The man who had just fucked me to delirium and back.

  An ache pulsed between my legs, perpetuating the burn he’d left with his thrusts. The muscles at my waist twinged from where his hands had held me down. My throat burned from the strain of my vocal cords.

  But my chest felt lighter, my mind clearer. The rest of my body drifted between languid contentment and anxious waiting.

  I haven’t even begun, you greedy slut.

  God, he’d said it in such a biting tone my lungs had filled with ice. At the same time, I shivered with delight. He’d delivered the same dark promise in his glare from across the bar. I should’ve heeded it. Maybe I had. Wasn’t that the reason I’d risked my career and Trent’s threat against Collin’s freedom to come here? To spend the night so lost in this man I’d forget about the consequences?

  And to think I had stood in the doorway of the hotel room, trembling on the threshold of indecision. I’d almost backed out. I would’ve missed out on the most intense sex I’d ever experienced.

  His arm bumped against my leg, his bicep flexing with whatever he was doing.

  I hadn’t gathered the strength to move from my face-down position, but I angled my head and drank in the teasing view of his backside where he sat on the edge of the bed. “So I think my screams might’ve reached Chicago Avenue. I’m surprised the neighbors haven’t come knocking.”

  He didn’t raise his head, but his chuckle was warm and delicious. “Evidently it’s a slow night at The Bells Hotel. We have the floor to ourselves.”

  Folded at the waist, his chest over his lap, he appeared to be taking off his shoes. The narrow V of his lower back contracted and moved, but his shirttail concealed the muscle definition.

  He still hadn’t removed his jeans. Hadn’t refastened them either, given how the waistband hung loose around the bend of his ass. I’d be ogling the top half of his crack if his shirt wasn’t tucked in.

  I couldn’t see the front of him, which left me to imagine all sorts of lustful things about his cock. Was it hanging out of his zipper? Stiff and dragging over his hard stomach while he untied his shoes?

  I squeezed my thighs together. I still hadn’t seen him orgasm. I hadn’t even seen him naked, but I had a good sense of his size, had felt the depth of pain and pleasure from his ramming length. And because I was a greedy slut, I needed to know if he was still aroused, if his cock matched the rigidness of his posture.

  Pushing up on my arms, I backed off the bed and swayed dizzily to my feet. He raised his head at the same time, as if he’d been waiting, tuned in to my movements.

  He straightened his back, black Converse in one hand, his erection in the other. The pound of my pulse filled my ears, in sync with the throb between my legs. He was incredibly stiff and thick, jutting from the open zipper of his jeans. His fingers curled around the base, clenching unapologetically, the condom still coated with my wetness.

  I’d thought his shape was formidable beneath the mold of denim, but seeing him exposed and swollen and filling the huge grip of his hand—my God, no wonder I ached from my thighs to my belly button.

  He tossed the shoes to the side, and the density of his golden eyes landed on me, pinning me in place. His desire was brazen, arousal dilating the pupils and weighing down his lids. But there was something else rotating there, a turbulent emotion sharpening the corners of his eyes.

  The fierceness of it curled around my chest, warm and smothering and secure. It felt right, like I’d found myself, perhaps discovered everything I’d wanted, right there in the hostile intensity of his gaze.

  What did that even mean? That I wanted to be owned or controlled or taken viciously? That I had a deep-seeded hankering to be hate-fucked? Why would he hate me?

  No, that wasn’t it. His passion was what spoke to me, his fire and venom. It was feverish, bold, and full of fight. All of which I welcomed, if only for one night, to fill the emptiness in my chest.

  “If you’re going to stare at me, do it with your clothes off.” His voice was smooth and deliciously sexual, just like the slow slide of his fist as he twisted it over his length.

  The next stroke took the condom with it. He dropped it on the floor then proceeded to rub himself, harder, faster, rocking his hips and fucking his hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

  The erotic sight heated my skin and sank deep into my bones. He was so damned sexy it was arresting. The stubble on his jaw glinting a coppery hue beneath the overhead light. His thick lashes lowering as he broke eye contact to watch the slide of his fist. His lips separating on a ragged exhale.

  Lips made for murmuring dirty words. Strong legs built for balance and speed. Hands meant to inflict pain and manipulate pleasure. A thick cock for stretching—

  The slap of his hand on my ass sounded in my ears, and a smarting bolt of heat burst across my backside. Shock stole my breath, and I teetered in the heels.

  He caught my elbow and used it to haul me chest-down on his lap, yanking up my dress.

  “Wait. What are you—?”

  Sharp, searing pain spread across my ass with another whack of his hand, and my startled yelp tumbled into a moan. I bucked through yet another smack, tensing, sighing. Then the real spanking came, the rapid whip of his hand striking every inch of my exposed backside and setting my skin on fire. With one arm braced across my back and his hard thighs pressing into my torso, he beat my ass without reprieve.

  The anticipation of each strike stoked a maddening burn through my body, but I fought it, fought him, just to see if he’d fight back. To find out how badly he wanted it, to see if I was worth the effort. Even more thrilling was the intensity of his gaze on my face. I could feel him watching my reactions with total focus. If I didn’t want this, he’d stop.

  My smile belied the thrashing of my body. He wrestled me with one arm while swinging the other, all the while keeping my chest locked against his lap. But my arms were free, and I used them to jab my fists and shove at his ribs, laughing and—Sonofabitch, that was a hard hit—groaning as his strikes grew stronger, faster.

  That’s it. I angled an elbow and slammed it as hard as I could into the prodding erection at my side.

  “Arrrgh, fuck!” He jerked back, hands on his cock and his knees drawing up as I scrambled off his lap. His face pinched with pain, and his eyes tapered into sexy slits. “What the hell was that for?”

  I sidled out of his reach, kicking off the heels and rubbing my poor butt. “What was that for? My fucking ass is on fire!”

  The pinched expression twisted into a diabolical smirk. He stood, vibrating with dirty plans, and unbuttoned his shirt. “Told you to take your clothes off.”

  Now I knew what to expect when I ignored an order. Biting down on a grin, I backed up. He stepped with me, his stern expression and fluid slide of muscle all prowly and growly.

  I thrilled in the chase, my stomach tightening and my hungry skin burning for his touch. A few feet from the wall, I halted i
n my retreat and tilted my head. “Make me.”

  He launched, his arms hooking around my back and his chest slamming into mine. We stumbled backward. His hand caught our fall on the wall. But he kept coming, his heavy body plowing into mine, fencing me in with the unmoving surface at my back. With a hand on my ass and the other flat on the wall, he dipped his head.

  The moment our lips collided, something snapped between us, an explosive release of restraint. And sweet Jesus, we surrendered to it. Our tongues whipped together, our bodies grinding. My hands flew to his hair, holding him to me as I inhaled the heavy breaths rushing past his lips.

  Nothing compared to this, to him. Because he didn’t just kiss. He fucked with his mouth, stretching and owning, dragging his tongue, wrenching every wanton part of me from my chest, and drawing it past my lips.

  He kissed hard and deep and furiously possessive. He kissed like he was never letting go.

  “Get this off.” He pawed along the back of my dress, searching for the hidden zipper as his mouth overtook mine.

  His hands went crazy, scratching and digging. I grinned against his lips, didn’t lift a finger to help him. His urgency fueled the fire blazing through my veins.

  Finally giving up on the zipper, he gathered the skirt and dragged it up and over my head. Our mouths separated as he tugged and stretched the material, forcing my arms in the air to pull it free.

  He stepped back, and the dress fell from his hand, the sight of him untamed and painfully exquisite. His brown hair looked more blond in this light, with maybe a shimmer of red, the ends standing up in tousled spikes from my hands. His shirt hung open, framing the chiseled strength of his hairless chest.

  His jeans hung precariously low on his hips, the zipper spread around the beautiful jut of his cock. He curled his fingers around it, stroking lazily, as his eyes roamed over me.

  There was something so wickedly arousing about watching a man touch himself, and Logan took it to an illicit level. I leaned against the wall for support and licked my tingling lips.